


All The Time In The World

by toesohnoes



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-03
Updated: 2011-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel takes his time once he has her naked, tasting his way across her body as if they have centuries ahead of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Time In The World

**Author's Note:**

> Written at my [Tumblr](http://toestastegood-fic.tumblr.com/post/11699537720/angel-takes-his-time-once-he-has-her-naked).

Angel takes his time once he has her naked, tasting his way across her body as if they have centuries ahead of them. He’s got the time to be patient. Faith doesn’t. Never has. For her whole life she has heard the clock ticking down with every single heartbeat.

She wriggles impatiently as Angel’s lips coast along the crease of her inner thigh, so close to where she wants him but not nearly close enough. She nudges the side of his head with his leg. “C’mon, Angel,” she complains. “I don’t have all night.”

“Do you have other plans?” he asks as his fingers ghost against the side of her underwear. Only murmuring the words, he still manages to sound smug. He knows the effect he has on her; knows that, when it comes to this, there’s nowhere else she’d rather be, no one else she’d rather have between her thighs.

( _she wishes, sometimes, she could say the same for him._ )

“You’re such a damn tease,” she says, but before she can complain any more he tugs the crotch of her underwear aside and eases her open. Air catches in her chest, trapped there, while her back arches in surprise. God, yes. This is it. This is what she’s wanted since she was a teenager, since she had looked at Angel and looked at Buffy and wanted what the pair of them had.

It’s not the same. She’s not stupid – she knows that. There’s a connection there and a whole book of history that she’s never going to be able to touch.

But Angel is here, between her thighs.

His hands are cold but his mouth is clever, playing her body in ways that speak of centuries of practice. In no time at all, he has her panting. She floods with heat, longing for him, her mouth open but unable to form words as she gasps and pants, losing track of her own thoughts, losing track of everything.

She grips hold of the pillow, her hands bunched near her head. What she wants is to reach down and sink her fingers into Angel’s hair, to use her strength to fight him and control him – she needs his tongue to move faster, firmer, and there’s a part of her that thinks she could make that happen.

She closes her eyes and then closes her mind to those thoughts, restraining herself through will power alone. Years in prison have taught her self-control. Doesn’t mean she likes it.

Yet Angel seems to know just what she needs. His hands take a firmer grip on her hips and he pulls her up towards him, her legs hooking around his shoulders while his face buries in her mound, eating her out with the kind of enthusiasm Faith would never expect. He sends fire through her body with every suck and lick – he makes her feel like the only woman in existence, and then he just makes her feel.

She burns for him, every cell in her body smouldering with his name, as wordless cries spill from her open mouth – just for him, only ever for him


End file.
